Poetry - Page 2

Bugs ****ing Bunny · January 6, 2004, 13:26

The rose I never bought you

I knew that it would never work
and so I hid those thoughts away,
In truth, was far too scared to ask.
And if faint regret seems to lurk
behind my smile, then do not say
"What feelings stir behind that mask?"
To deny them for another day,
after so long, would be an easy task.

In the puzzle of each other's lives
we were pieces that would never fit,
and notes that could never ring true.
I should have written words more wise
or blessed with passion, fury and wit
to honour everything you do,
but this verse is yours. Think of it
as the rose I never bought you.

Bugs ****ing Bunny · January 6, 2004, 13:27

Gruinard

A soft green isle in the arms of the bay
Gruinard was so very still.
We stood on the facing shore,
watching otters hunt in rockpools.
On the land behind us bees murmured
and Wagtails flitted over heather.
Before us was no trace of life.

The grass and trees still grew
but nothing was moving.
I remember the silence most-
how the flow of animal life
seemed to pause warily
before shying away from that isle.

I held a rough stone in my hand
and gripped it until my palm hurt.
More than all else I felt
that I was staring down the barrel
of random and careless doom,
and what still chills my blood
is that the soft, green, poisoned island
looked close enough to reach out and touch.

Oncle Boris · January 7, 2004, 19:35

Flip, I don't have my poems with me, so well... too bad.

Thanks for you asking anyway...

Urban Ranger · January 10, 2004, 08:21

I wrote it in Chinese, so only a few could understand it

Quote:

《偶感》

月殘風清星稀
花飛雨洒晨曦
燈黃人倦愁羈
異鄉客夢故園

Urban Ranger · January 10, 2004, 08:22

This is about the invasion of Iraq:

Quote:

《侵伊》

大漠黃沙染血紅
長空白雲薰焦黑
驚見狂人舞屠刀
怒聞異族侵伊北
火油如金命如泥
鋼獸掠地猶自得
大聖伏魔今何在
荒邑棄骨風中泣

Bugs ****ing Bunny · January 10, 2004, 08:23

Nice. Lots of little rectangles all stacked neatly.

Urban Ranger · January 10, 2004, 08:24

Skanky Burns · January 10, 2004, 08:29

Nice haikus, Uber.

Skanky Burns · January 10, 2004, 08:36

I see this.
Although it would explain why UR posted a bunch of question marks in the translation thread before... I just thought he couldn't translate some bits.

Jac de Molay · January 10, 2004, 12:58

....the kind of dream
with butterscotch flowing
through my veins

silky hair
freckles falling
twisting entwined
smiled whispers
secret message
tangled grasping
flailing mangled
explode together
high above
the sordid mess
we call our love

Alarm bell greets
the concrete day
sidewalk cracks and
broken glass
And here he lays
two-hundred pound
waste of space-time
fabric dreamy
and smiling
and drowning in
a sea of butterscotch...

The Mad Monk · January 10, 2004, 13:06

Quote:

Originally posted by Lazarus and the Gimp
Gruinard

A soft green isle in the arms of the bay
Gruinard was so very still.
We stood on the facing shore,
watching otters hunt in rockpools.
On the land behind us bees murmured
and Wagtails flitted over heather.
Before us was no trace of life.

The grass and trees still grew
but nothing was moving.
I remember the silence most-
how the flow of animal life
seemed to pause warily
before shying away from that isle.

I held a rough stone in my hand
and gripped it until my palm hurt.
More than all else I felt
that I was staring down the barrel
of random and careless doom,
and what still chills my blood
is that the soft, green, poisoned island
looked close enough to reach out and touch.

I really liked this one, and it prompted me to find out if there was a Gruinard Isle. There was.

Sad, the things we do.

Ben Kenobi · January 11, 2004, 08:27

I liked his first one better.

I think I'll write a response.

I'd rather have the words.

A withered rose upon my shelf,
Fading as all our memories do
As time touches the best and worst.
I hardly can recall myself
Recieving such a gift as true,
The passion petals bud and burst
Their glowing glory soaking through
Once dampened spirits, quenched of thirst.

The pen is mightier than the sword,
As words do not dull over time.
Your thoughts fade not now as the rose
Blackens and crumbles, love unstored.
So envy not the day sublime,
For all the brightest suns arose
Only to set, whereas your rhyme,
Still stands in solid steady pose.

Bugs ****ing Bunny · January 11, 2004, 08:30

That's very good, but it now feels like we're dating, darling.

Ben Kenobi · January 11, 2004, 08:54

Thanks Laz.

Kind of hard to write that response any other way than to be the one who would have gotten that rose.

Snowflake · January 13, 2004, 15:30

I like to write, but can never write a poem. I think it requires special brain cells.

But your poems moved me.

Cruddy · January 13, 2004, 15:38

There are holes in the sky
Where the rain gets in
But they're ever so small
That's why rain is thin!

Terence Arthur Milligan, we miss you.

Al B. Sure! · January 13, 2004, 15:42

the first few lines is pretty rough. got to work on that.

Honey, I can’t lie, you got me mesmerized,
Your body blessed my eyes with your chest and thighs,
Don’t wet your eyes cause you can bet that I’d,
Always be your souljah, just lay your head,
On my shoulder and I’ll hold you closer,
Every day and night, we already staying like,
We’ll be together forever and when I,
Pray at night, I pray it might happen,
So I write rap and love poetry,
The love you showing me got a thug going weak,
It’s pure like a flower growing free, each hour,
That you knowing me, you got this power over me,
You showing me, the care I aint ever had,
Even where the weather’s bad, like a better half,
You make me whole, take my soul and bless me, lady,
With you love cause you got me crazy in this love.

I’m spending my nights with you cause I’m needing,
Even a dim sight of you because it,
Brings light in view to my dark days, I hope your heart stays,
Linked to mine, I got a thinking mind that’s thinking rhymes,
And spitting lines to express this best feeling,
In my chest, not needing to be kneeling by my bed,
To beg and pray for better days, you blessed my days,
I get amazed when I see your face, cause there’s,
Few with your prettiness and you move with seducive,
Music and poetry mixed, you showing me this,
Everytime you take a step, it’s like a dance,
And you get me in a trance, I see perfection,
Within a glance, I want to share affection,
And take your hands and feel what art feels like,
My heart feels right when I heard your words like verse,
Your voice and laughter like song, I searched the world,
For a girl I found after so long so I could rap her this song.

Like a scribe, I write to describe this vibe with pride,
As I look in your eyes that’s like the skies at night,
Dark but bright, they glimmer like bright stars at night,
It’s like my heart got might cause the power of my heart’s,
Staring verbal gardens, flowers that never wilt or darken,
I ask, will your heart and spirit hear this,
Written poetic pyramid and Taj Mahal?
Starting awe, I’ll concoct them all and make,
Seven wonders stand for my love but I know only,
You and heaven understands my love for your,
Hands slight touch and your beautiful body,
You know it got me loving your shape,
As I’m hugging your waist, thin and slim, I’m kissing,
Your face and lips, my hands tipping your waist and hips,
And every inch is so beautiful,
From your thighs to your eyes, you’re so beautiful.

Alex · January 13, 2004, 15:46

I'm a poet, so...

Al B. Sure! · January 13, 2004, 15:49

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? I got three sides...

I’m a dime slinging, nine whipping, rhyme spitting,
Blind, slipping poet, gripping on pens,
Thinking I know **** with dreams of sipping moet,
And driving a Benz, I take clips and blow it,
Firing mack-10’s, it’s like I’m trying to spend,
A life in the pen, but still trying for friends,
Who locked up, they got us dying like men when shot up,
Tho Allah is inside us, hollers invite us,
Dollars incite us to be crooks and fighters,
And put in all-nighters like an energizer,
Battery, **** who’s the badest, my status,
Depends on salary, that’s our mentality,
Burning cash like a calorie, you’ll get jacked,
Like Chingy at the Gallery cause I got,
Dreams of back to back benzes and I seen,
Stacks thru black lenses and other expenses,
Cause getting rich is the consensus.

Like the child in the Nile River, I will,
Give ya freedom from the vile, won’t be seeking,
The lifestyles that weaken your survival,
Don’t be needing your bible, queens need to stop,
Weeping eyefuls of tears while here, men die full of fears,
But the chosen is near, open your ears and hear,
That serpents is posing as the chosen in Israel,
I’m this male child of Ismael, feel my words like it’s Braille,
And I wish jails will fail and will free my,
Ghetto people who’ll blow eagles to show the evil,
That we the true kings, set to reign when we thunder,
Kept under cause we humans doing a few sins,
But we still the painful angels in chains who’ll,
Change the aim of society and more violence be,
Justified cause too long, we trusted lies,
Now ****ing die against out offensive;
Cause getting free is the consensus.

I succeed in silent, quiet streets where,
Violent, excited seeds aint die with heat,
In hand before they be a man, aiming hammers,
After they moms changed they pampers, playing gangsters,
They sweep the streets and **** with keys like they janitors,
Think they pros but they amateurs, looking like thugs,
But **** caring bout what thugs be wearing,
Only cuffs I’m wearing is on my jeans,
I wash, say prayers in mosques to see my dream,
I’ll share this spot with those that’s clean and fiend,
To move the rock down the court; not move the rock,
Then be in court; who got suits and a briefcase,
For they work and aint catch suits and a weakcase,
For doing work, I know this world exists,
Where my wishes come true and kids aint dumb fools,
Cause both they parents dispense this truth and they know who,
They friends is, I get replenished by this quiet,
That’s momentous; cause getting peace is the consensus.

Ben Kenobi · January 13, 2004, 17:10

Quote:

I think it requires special brain cells.

No. It helps to have suffered, just from the intensity of the emotions coming out in the poetry.

Edit:

And it helps not mispelling your posts when others quote you.

Pekka · January 13, 2004, 17:46

LOVE by me

Give me your money
and I'll call you my honey
Love is my power
even if it's just for one hour
but for the whole night
you can be my knight
with shiny helmet and sword
if that's your game and you can afford

My love is pure and clean
when you hand over the green
You don't have to use a glove
I washed my dungeon of love
Love is the greatest therapy
but on me you can't pee
everything is possible
I'm wearing the love label

Snowflake · January 13, 2004, 17:54

Pekka you are so cynical.

Quote:

Originally posted by Ben Kenobi

No. It helps to have suffered, just from the intensity of the emotions coming out in the peotry.

I have suffered. I am still suffering. But I still lack the special cells for poetry. Maybe I have not suffered enough.

Pekka · January 13, 2004, 18:01

Communism:

*crowd shouts everything that is typed with caps*
SHARE!

But I don't want to

SHARE!

But I don't really have to?

SHARE!

To who, if I only knew

OPPRESS OPPRESS

Is that all you do?

OPPRESS OPPRESS

I don't like it what can I do?

OPPRESS OPPRESS

I'm feeling blue

THE RED, THE RED

that's what I dread

THE RED, THE RED

the virus will spread

THE RED, THE RED

my freedom is dead

THE TRUTH, THE TRUTH

propaganda to youth

THE TRUTH, THE TRUTH

We don't need the official proof

THE TRUTH, THE TRUTH

We are following the goof

OBEY, OBEY!

I can't go another day

OBEY, OBEY!

Only thing I can do is pray

OBEY, OBEY!

All we wear is gray

JohnT · January 13, 2004, 18:05

UR.... that's beautiful.

Speaking of poetry in the third grade I was given the assignment of writing a poem about something I liked. Well, I had a bunch of rabbits at that age and no sense of the poetic at all. So I just copied

something out of National Georgraphic for Kids (or something like that) and submitted. It was a stupid poem, one written by... well, by somebody writing poems for National Geographic for Kids. (KidsWorld? Kid Planet?)

To my shock and horror the teacher bought it, so much so that she submitted it to some county-wide school poetry competition, where kids from every school in DeKalb county (the Atlanta, GA suburbs) submitted poems to be judged.

Man, I was a freaking wreck.

I just knew that I've done something bad, and the sense of not-knowing was just killing me. So I did the only two things I could do:

1. I stole the magazine from the school library.

2. I confessed to my Dad one Sunday night, after he filled himself with beer and steak. Good call - I could tell that he found the whole thing kind of amusing, and my Dad's "good mood" punishments were always less severe than his "severely pissed" punishments. I don't remember what the punishment was, so I'm sure I picked the right time. One thing I know is that we didn't go to the school and confess (though he might've called them on his own, I don't know.) I do know that I never heard anything about that stupid poem again, which was damn fine by me!

But I sure learned my lesson!

Pekka · January 13, 2004, 18:19

SUPERCITIZEN by me.

Supercitizen extraordinaire, he's rare but fair, citizens enemies must prepare
His heart is golden, last of the men who enters the lions den
With his guns blazing, fighting the terror raising with skills so amazing
He shoots left, he shoots right, you better run away because he's coming to fight
the baddies, the scum, they crumble when they hear the war drum
Gonna get you some, and make you look dumb because of what you have become
His values are warm, and he can perform and bring the storm... to the eagles nest
wash out the pest, he's the best, everyone is impressed
by his abilities to make an arrest

Bugs ****ing Bunny · January 13, 2004, 18:23

Quote:

Originally posted by Albert Speer
the first few lines is pretty rough. got to work on that.

Honey, I can’t lie, you got me mesmerized,
Your body blessed my eyes with your chest and thighs,
Don’t wet your eyes cause you can bet that I’d,
Always be your souljah, just lay your head,
On my shoulder and I’ll hold you closer,
Every day and night, we already staying like,
We’ll be together forever and when I,
Pray at night, I pray it might happen,
So I write rap and love poetry,
The love you showing me got a thug going weak,
It’s pure like a flower growing free, each hour,
That you knowing me, you got this power over me,
You showing me, the care I aint ever had,
Even where the weather’s bad, like a better half,
You make me whole, take my soul and bless me, lady,
With you love cause you got me crazy in this love.

I’m spending my nights with you cause I’m needing,
Even a dim sight of you because it,
Brings light in view to my dark days, I hope your heart stays,
Linked to mine, I got a thinking mind that’s thinking rhymes,
And spitting lines to express this best feeling,
In my chest, not needing to be kneeling by my bed,
To beg and pray for better days, you blessed my days,
I get amazed when I see your face, cause there’s,
Few with your prettiness and you move with seducive,
Music and poetry mixed, you showing me this,
Everytime you take a step, it’s like a dance,
And you get me in a trance, I see perfection,
Within a glance, I want to share affection,
And take your hands and feel what art feels like,
My heart feels right when I heard your words like verse,
Your voice and laughter like song, I searched the world,
For a girl I found after so long so I could rap her this song.

Like a scribe, I write to describe this vibe with pride,
As I look in your eyes that’s like the skies at night,
Dark but bright, they glimmer like bright stars at night,
It’s like my heart got might cause the power of my heart’s,
Staring verbal gardens, flowers that never wilt or darken,
I ask, will your heart and spirit hear this,
Written poetic pyramid and Taj Mahal?
Starting awe, I’ll concoct them all and make,
Seven wonders stand for my love but I know only,
You and heaven understands my love for your,
Hands slight touch and your beautiful body,
You know it got me loving your shape,
As I’m hugging your waist, thin and slim, I’m kissing,
Your face and lips, my hands tipping your waist and hips,
And every inch is so beautiful,
From your thighs to your eyes, you’re so beautiful.

As I said last time you posted that, the word you want is "seductive".

Ben Kenobi · January 13, 2004, 18:57

Quote:

I have suffered. I am still suffering. But I still lack the special cells for poetry. Maybe I have not suffered enough.

That's not really it either. In my poem, I just started with a strong opening image. When my girlfriend broke up with me, I remembered the rose sitting on her shelf, that I had given to her to brighten up the worst day of the year that we had in Vancouver, the same day that floods washed out the bridge between Vancouver and Whistler.

Seeing that rose wither made me think of our relationship fading like the rose, and I just took the poem from there.

I had to work with the less than friendly structure of the poem to make all the rhymes work properly.

Urban Ranger · January 14, 2004, 02:10

Quote:

Originally posted by Ben Kenobi
I had to work with the less than friendly structure of the poem to make all the rhymes work properly.

There's one?

All of them seem to pretty free-form to me.

Urban Ranger · January 14, 2004, 02:11

Quote:

Originally posted by HongHu
I have suffered. I am still suffering. But I still lack the special cells for poetry. Maybe I have not suffered enough.

You just need to start with an intense feeling or imagery.

Of course, having special brain cells does help

CapitanGarlic · January 14, 2004, 02:51

Going along those lines there, I wrote this one a month or two after a good friend of mine died in a rafting accident.

When the World Wept

I wept the day that Katy died-
The whole world stopped
And I wished it would have stopped longer
But the world must keep turning, and
So it did.

The world turned, though it wasn't the
Same world that turned before;
the green grass didn't stand so tall in the gentle hills,
the calm, crystal waters were not at ease, and not so clear,
the sun set softly, but not so soft as it had.

It rained, I remember.
the world wept with me, so I like to think
the rain pattered softly down, and
Turned the bright world gray. The colors came back,
but not when the rain left.

I am cold when the rains come-
what do the innocent do to deserve?
and do the innocent even exist? Katy did.
Katy did, and now her fate to be mourned and put on a shelf,
Loved, lost, lamented, forgotten.

I wept the day that Katy died,
I weep this day still.
Flowers wilt, rainbows fade
and the cold, careless rain reminds: you existed.
I would give the waters and the grasses and the flowers and the sun
to make the cruel rains go far away, and bring the warm days back.

...yeah. There you go. I've more, and I may post them later.